


atlas shrugged his shoulders (call me in the morning when im sober)

by d00nut



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Heavy Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scott Ryder is a Mess, Team as Family, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:39:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d00nut/pseuds/d00nut
Summary: Scott buckles under the weight of the world. Lucky for him, he has people to help share that weight- he just needs to be reminded of that.





	atlas shrugged his shoulders (call me in the morning when im sober)

**Author's Note:**

> This started out at being like...a thousand words? And how here I am with this. Whoops.  
> Anyway, I'm sitting on some other ideas for mreyder and mrydaal fics, so for those of you who still care about this fandom, keep your eyes peeled.  
> I'm gonna shoutout my spotify playlist for Scott Ryder, if you wanna check it out it's https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7oohrOEBKLUKWnxAAyNHel?si=XEtFILXITUinD6mH4pCHDA  
> Please just ignore the mistakes, I didn't want to read back through it and change my mind about posting it.  
> k thanks <3  
> \--  
> The title is from the song atlas by keshi

Scott’s not sure how many bottles of alcohol he’s went through since he got to the Vortex but by the looks of concern he was getting from some of the other bar patrons it must have been quite a lot- not that he was in the mood or the mindset to give a shit. He’s _tired_ okay, so what? Despite saving the cluster from the kett _and_ making multiple worlds inhabitable, he still has so much riding on him (ha, get it? _Ryding_ ). But, really, in what reality did he think that once Meridian was found, his job was going to get any lighter? The Archon might be gone, but there’s more kett out there, waiting. Primus is alive, retreated for now, but could soon return just as strong or more so than the first time. The quarian ark, lost and in trouble with no way of coming to their aid. Dad’s biggest secret, the _Initiative’s_ biggest secret, is probably still out there…if Shepard( _Jane_ ) lost, Scott’s sure there’s no one left back in the Milky Way-- or no Milky Way left at all--and that existential dread comes rearing its head again with a force that sends him reeling.

They could be an endangered species, and they could’ve very well led the Reapers to the angara.

And he hasn’t talked to Reyes in weeks. But he won’t delve too deep in that depressive hole.

“Oops,” he talks to himself, that’s okay because people assume it’s just him talking to the other person sharing his mind. He slides the bottle back towards himself and manages to pour some of the alcohol into his cup. “Not…drunk enough.”

Luckily or unluckily, he’s not sure yet, his crew decides to make an entrance. They suspiciously take no time at all to find his hiding spot in the back of the Vortex. They’re a well known crew, so people quickly make way for them. When he spots a certain asari doctor, he knows he’s in trouble.

“Welp,” he hiccups, throwing a lazy salute that would make his dad cry. “Party’s over.”

Scott watches over the rim of his drink as they all take a survey of the scene before them. It’s not a pretty sight, he must admit to himself.

“You’re sauced! What’s your poison?” Peebee giggles, Scott recognizes it as a reference to something (probably mocking him, as Peebee does) but he’s too busy trying to figure out if he’s seeing double or if the Tempest is going to be terrorized by two Peebee’s.

“’M not done, but if you guys wanna come’n hang out,” he gestures wildly to the empty booth he’s been holed away in for the past- actually, he doesn’t know how long he’s been in here. He came to get away, to hide, but you can’t hide with an AI in your head, but no one ever said Scott wasn’t a determined son of a bitch. “I dunno uh, what I’ve been drinkin’… wasn’t really paying attention but--wait, what time izzit ‘n how did’ja find me? Just kiddin’ I know it was that snitch SAM- _hey!_ ”

He pawed at the air where his bottle of Akantha had been, a full beat ago Lexi swiped it off the table while he’d been distracted; Scott takes a full beat to turn in his seat and point a lazy finger at her.

“Rude!” He gets his hand smacked when he attempts to free the bottle from her clutches, yelping more out of surprise than it actually hurting. Though his feelings are hurt because that was _mean_. He rubs at the nonexistent pain and feigns a wince. To his dismay, Lexi doesn’t appear to have been moved by his theatrics.

Save the galaxy, and this is the thanks he gets? Can’t go anywhere without someone wanting to control what he was doing. He just wanted one day to himself. It isn’t selfish, he swears- just one day then he can pathfind ‘til he croaks. He’d spent a good portion of his morning at his desk muting emails, SAM said he could’ve done it himself but where’s the fun in that? It was nearly damn therapeutic. Hell, it was damn near _orgasmic_ muting Tann. The prissy salarian has probably been in a conniption all day. Scott doesn’t even want to imagine the spam messages he’s going to be assaulted with the moment he unmutes his email.

“Oh Goddess, he’s pouting now. _Please_ , stop pouting! Ah, the dreaded puppy eyes too! _Ugh,_ of course, this is where you were, you’ve been drinking every night since we landed for shore leave,” Lexi chastised, passing the bottle to Drack who chugged the rest in one go and laughed at whatever expression Scott’s face was making. “Scott, this is ridiculous and irresponsible! With all the damage your body has sustained this year alone, your kidneys can’t possibly- are you listening? Scott!”

No, in fact, he wasn’t. Nope, he didn’t want to listen to shit- but he certainly wasn’t saying that to Lexi’s face. He’s not shitfaced enough to be mean to the person whose been keeping him alive and well. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been one day, maybe it had been a week. But it was _fine._

A pained look fell across Lexi’s face, like it physically hurt her to see him like this- or he’d just said that last bit out loud. Or both. Scott knows she’s psychoanalyzing him right now and he hates it; he looks away from her, from all of them, suddenly embarrassed and the cold dread that passes through him sobers him up a bit. _What’s he doing?_ He’s fucked around and let his crew see him like this, they’ve all come here to drag him home. Because of him, they’re losing shore leave time, Vetra could be with Sid, Cora could take some time for herself, Drack has grandchildren. Thank God his sister’s millions of miles away studying and excavating Khi Tasira. Hopefully his crew won’t blab to her anytime soon. At least until his hangover passes. Sara’s going to be so pissed at him, or disappointed- which will be so much worse. 

They all have to be so disappointed in him.

Lexi’s sigh could barely be heard over the music but at this point, Scott, and everyone else on the Tempest, was pretty attuned to it.

“Scott, we can talk about this later, but you need to sleep off the alcohol in your system,” A golden glow lit up the small space around them as Lexi waved her omnitool over him to scan him. “There’s _a lot_ of alcohol in your system. I’m surprised you’re even conscious.”

“Had tons of practice back in the Milky Way,” no one else finds this as funny as he does apparently. “Biotic too…fast metabo…metab…ism.”

“Question,” Jaal speaks up, coming around to stand behind Scott. He cranes his neck to look up at him and nearly topples out of his seat. Like many of Jaal’s endless questions, you never know what he’s going to say. “Do all Milky Way species use alcohol to cope or is it just humans?”

“Nnnope! Uh-uh, no thanks,” he moves like there’s a fire under his ass; wiggling out of the booth in one moment and the next, nearly eating the linoleum, but hands latch on to his biceps and he has a second to notice that someone (him) has spilled something on the floor before he’s hefted into a standing position. Dizzy and disoriented, he staggers into a wall. The wall is Jaal. He’s a big guy, damn.

“Oh, what the hell,” Liam swears, scrambling to keep his drunk friend upright when his legs reenact a baby hanar’s first steps. “Damn, he’s heavy! Drack?”

Drack’s a less comfy figure to lean on. What with all the bone decorations and being a krogan. He’d make a comment about being called fat if he didn’t feel like they were playing hot potato with him. He pleads with his stomach to stop performing somersaults and gags when the nausea becomes too much.

“Kid, if you barf on me, they’ll have to find another Pathfinder,” Drack growls, the vibrations rattling Scott’s brain around in his skull.

“Ah, they got more of- _hic_ -those hangin’ around ‘ere somewhere,” and not a single of them were the original choice. Yet they still looked to Scott for guidance. Though not necessarily as an example, they’d joked, unless they wanted to die once or twice.

“If you guys keep doing that, he’s gonna get sick,” Peebee cautioned from behind Vetra. Though, she looked like she really wanted to see it happen if that wide-eyed morbid expression was anything to go by. She didn’t even have the decency to look sorry, even when he tried to glower at her over Vetra’s carapace.

“’m already there,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes as his stomach rolled. He focused on his breathing until it passed. God, he was such a messy drunk. He’d been like this at 16 after stealing a bottle Dad’s Illium Elite Brand. Dad was mad as hell then and he’d be mad as hell now; funny, Scott didn’t give a shit then and he sure as hell didn’t now.

Two arms snake under his armpits and his vision goes blurry like one of those carnival rides he and Sara would ride until they were sick, when it clears Scott finds himself pressed securely against Jaal. He can’t be bothered to feel bad about putting nearly his entire weight on him.

“Jaal,” he tries to tsk but his tongue won’t cooperate; he finds this absolutely hilarious for some reason and drunken laughter bubbles up from his chest until his stomach aches. “I have a boyfriend, you dirty rascal, an’ …aw, I miss him so much, you guys…”

Long distance relationships are hard. Especially if one person is a Pathfinder and the other is the ruler of an entire planet. There’s an underlying tension in every vidcall, it can be read between the lines of every email. But, when they’re worlds come together, when they’ve returned to each other- nothing else matters, because it’s all worth it. Seeing Reyes after so long apart is like stepping onto the Tempest after a day spent in Elaaden’s unforgiving heat. Scott sometimes feels like a dying man, lost and stranded in a desert without water and Reyes is a mirage, except the mirage is _real_. It just feels like he’s impossible to get to, to find, to trust sometimes. He physically shakes his head at that, trying not to think about that cave. Where everything could’ve went so wrong. No, he tells himself, he’s put his faith and trust in Reyes many times since then and he hasn’t been let down since. It’s difficult, with their history muddying the water, but Scott _wants_ to trust Reyes- that must count for something. Besides, without Reyes, Scott would’ve gotten lost a long time ago; Pathfinder or not. Despite what the others think of Reyes the Charlatan, Reyes the Boyfriend is...safety. A safety he hasn’t known in a long time.

He hasn’t seen Reyes in god knows how long, it’s an unnecessary stress on top of all his necessary stresses. It’s not that he just misses him, _God_ does he miss him, he also worries for him. Now that the kett have more or less withdrew from Heleus for the time being, the Initiative now turns its attention to Kadara and its exiles. The Nexus leadership is unfortunately aware of his relationship with an exile, much to Tann’s distaste and Scott fears that one day their luck will run out and Reyes’ status will be revealed. As of right now, Kadara is independent from the Initiative, and as long as Diteon stands, they have relative peace. For now. Being Charlatan is dangerous, despite Reyes’ identity being unknown, and Scott wishes he could keep him close. He’s begged him to stay on the Tempest with him, to rule Kadara there, but he’s a stubborn bastard. _I don’t want Keema to have all the fun_ , he’d said. Scott had dropped it after that, he knew they both had responsibilities they couldn’t leave, no matter how much they wanted to keep each other close.

“Oh, _heh_ , I wouldn’t worry about that too much,” Vetra cut off his derailing train of thought, her mandibles twitching in discomfort. “Jaal’s a little busy with the other Ryder.”

There’s a stiff pause between them all, the music thumping in the background adding a real comic effect as the gears in Scott’s brain try to process what the hell Vetra said. Jaal was a wall of awkward beside him, avoiding eye contact with everyone and becoming weirdly interested in the pool of alcohol at his feet.

“You’re dating my sister?!”

Jaal fumbled, the usually bold angara becoming a big pink embarrassment beside him. He shifted foot to foot, coincidentally shifting Scott in tow, stirring his slushy brain. He slapped an arm against Jaal’s chest in frustration when he lost patience. He slapped him two more times before Jaal snatched his arm midair. Scott jerked his arm free and gave him one last smack.

“We…have yet to discuss the terms of our relationship as of-“

“ _You’re fucking my sister?!”_

Well. He can’t _wait_ to talk to his sister again. Finally, something to poke fun at her for. He’s a little dismayed that he didn’t realize sooner- Jaal was definitely her type. Classically romantic _and_ a poet. He kinda loved that they were together, well not together yet- but he would change that. Still, he felt a little miffed that his friend and sister kept him out of the loop.

Scott gaped at Jaal as Drack guffawed at the revelation. It seemed the whole crew was reveling in Jaal’s embarrassment, and he would feel bad if not for the attention being drawn off him.

“Y’know…I bet you guys are reaaal cute together,” he slurred, deciding that he should probably reassure Jaal before he really hurts his friend’s feelings. He’s embarrassing himself but he’s already made a complete ass of himself all week so he might as well finish the night strong. “You should be with her- like Reyes should be with me! He should be here...”

“Oookay, we’re leaving! Yep, this is us- walking out the door,” Liam announced, eyes skyward as if to ask God, _why? Why this? Why me?_ Well, relatable. Get in line, Liam. He’s been asking that since he woke up in Andromeda. “Let’s get Scott back to his room, yeah?”

Dad’s room- not his. Never his. Couldn’t be, he’d never feel safe with all those encrypted logs and distress signals. Secret benefactors and the Reapers. The sound of those…beings haunting his dreams and consciousness. He doesn’t want to think about the unresolved conflict between his family and Jane. Who’d taught Scott everything he knew about wielding his biotics, who’d said, _stop calling me that- everyone calls me Shepard, I want you to call me Jane, alright?_

“Nonono, Tempest- take me to the Tempest,” he panicked, fruitlessly digging his heels into the ground like a petulant child. “Don’t--not Dad’s-“

Nausea crashed over him like a powerful wave on a beach he’ll never see again. Scott dropped his head against Jaal’s shoulder, suddenly clamming up as his anxiety gut punched him, leaving him hot and cold. The unwanted stress sobering him up in the most unpleasant way. He closed his eyes in shame.

“Take me to the Tempest,” he begged one last time. “Please.”

“Of course, my friend,” Jaal agreed as everyone else went worryingly silent. In a few excruciating moments, they were outside and steadily approaching his ship. He noticed that the others had quietly dispersed while he wasn’t paying attention, leaving Jaal and Liam to play babysitter when Jaal broke the silence. “Ryder, I can say with utmost certainty that this crew cares deeply for you, and I speak for everyone when I say that this does not lessen our respect for you. This makes you…human.”

Then he smiled satisfied at his use of the human phrase. His words were spoken with that intense truth that only angarans could achieve. It never failed to take his breath away and leave him on unsteady ground.

“What he said, you’re _real_ and- honestly I’m just surprised it took you this long,” Liam gave a one shouldered shrug, not guilty at all in his confession. “You’re a person, like- best of the best, sure but you’re not Atlas, you don’t have to carry the stress of the world solely on your shoulders, man- that’s what we’re here for, and Reyes too, we’re in this too. We can shoulder this with you, you just need to actually let us. You used to; I don’t know what’s going on now to make you act like this but…we’ve got your back, Pathfinder. Always have, always will.”

Scott didn’t know what to say to all this, except to just feel utterly grateful.

“I know you’re really too drunk to hear anything of this right now, so you don’t have to say anything, but you’re welcome- obviously,” Liam teased, filling the silence with the opening of the Tempest hangar door.

“This may be an inopportune time, but who is Atlas and how does he carry your planet on his shoulders?” Jaal asks with a curious tilt to his head. “Is this a human religion or folklore?”

“Hmm…both I guess, I’ll tell you about it later, yeah?”

They were quiet as they took him to his room. Once outside the door, Liam asked SAM to notify them if Scott needed them and with one last shared look between Jaal and Liam, they bid him goodnight and the door closed with a quiet _whoosh_ and then he was alone. With SAM.

_[Would you like me to call Reyes?]_

Scott starfished on his bed. Did he? He was still majorly drunk; it kept coming and going in waves- did he drink something mixed with ryncol? God, as much as he desperately wanted to hear that voice- he was such a mess right now.

“No, SAM-“

_[Calling Reyes Vidal.]_

His heat shot up from where he was trying to smother himself, “SAM, don’t be a little bitch- hang up.”

_[Connecting with Reyes Vidal.]_

“Damn you, I told you I didn’t want to talk to him right now-“

“Nice to hear from you as well, cariño,” Reyes purrs, unoffended and voice thick with exhaustion, a slow rumbling that washed over Scott like a lover’s caress. This simple vulnerability was something so cherished to Scott, because it was an indicator of how much trust Reyes had in him. It came as a great deal of pride, to have Reyes’ trust, something that came in such short supply to everyone he came across.

Something unfortunate begins to build in his chest. He drops his head back into his pillow with a groan and tries to smother himself again, “sorry, you caught me at a bad time.”

“I see,” a pause on his end caused Scott to look up check that Reyes didn’t just hang up on him. “Would you like me to call tomorrow?”

A part of him wants to say _yes_ , but he also wants him to continue talking to him right now. He wants him to call him every day and be a tangible thing in his bed. Something to cling to like a child and will the world away. His chest has grown tight and his lungs catch on air. Reyes makes an odd noise in the back of his throat; there’s some hurried shuffling as Scott deduces that he must’ve been readying for bed before SAM rudely called him.

“Are…you crying? Did something happen? SAM?”

Oh, he really was still way too drunk if he didn’t notice the tears and snot ruining his freshly pressed Initiative sheets. He sucks in his bottom lips and rubs his face against his dirtied sheets. Just hearing Reyes’ voice brought all these feelings to the surface.

“No,” he sobs, like a liar. Sara had always teased him about being the emotional one in the family, and dad tended to be a bit more…harsh. He couldn’t help it; he’d always wore his heart on his sleeve.

_[Yes.]_

Heat burns in his chest, “fuck you, SAM.”

“Mi amor, don’t be so harsh. Thank you, SAM,” Great, now both of them were on his case.

[ _Scott’s vitals indicate that he is experiencing an increase in cortisol and glucose levels, and a severe decrease in serotonin.]_

A harsh exhale of breath and a noncommittal hum come from the other side of the call and Scott wonders what Reyes could possibly be thinking about this situation. Reyes has never heard- or seen -him cry. It must be uncomfortable for someone so emotionally stunted as Reyes. He’s changed some, for Scott, but it’s a process that often leaves Reyes self-conscious and vulnerable in a way he’s never experienced before. He’s trying, still, and Scott will be patient and appreciative, nonetheless.

He doesn’t want to burden Reyes; he doesn’t want to burden anybody with this knowledge he carries. If his father was here, would he have told him? Would he have told everyone about the unknown fate of the Milky Way? Alec Ryder was many things, a liar by omission was one of them. What if Scott just lies, keeping this secret until he dies. Is it better to live an oblivious and blissful life, or a more aware yet stressful life? He can’t just decide that for hundreds of thousands of people. But he knows it will be chaos- how can a person explain this to a people who have finally began to accept them living here? There are already speculations among the angara.

‘ _What impulse drove your people to cross dark space? What have you come here for? Do you expect us believe you’re just explorers who want to live in peace? I think you fled something terrible. I think it might follow you here.’_

It’s a bad omen, Scott doesn’t usually believe in those but this- this message that’s been seared into his brain since he read it- it terrifies him. Leaves him frozen in place and shaking like he does after a day on Voeld. The endless possibilities make his heart race. His blind optimistic side wants to believe that they beat the Reapers, they found the weapon Dr. T’Soni was talking about. The only way of knowing is if the quarian ark received any transmissions before they lost signal with Milky Way satellites.

“Scott,” Reyes murmurs softly, making Scott wince. “I know you’re in pain- forgive me, but you don’t hide it well, even when you’re sober. I’m not good with this- with us, you know? But…please, let me do this for you.”

It’s all on the surface, threatening to ruin him. How can it not? With Reyes sharing that little bit of weakness in hopes of making Scott feel better. It’s like he’s standing on the edge of it all, teetering back and forth. It’s unknown what side he’s going to be on at the end of this conversation. He just hopes Reyes in there to help him with the aftermath.

His blinks through his drunkenness and feels a bit of himself just break a bit, “It just seems so hopeless.”

Reyes says the best and worst thing possible at this moment: nothing. He lets Scott figure out if he wants to continue or not, and Scott kinda loves him for it. No pressure, no pushing and prying for information. Just gentle guiding.

But no amount of guiding is going to get him to open up about this- not yet, at least. He fixates on SAM’s blue apparatus across the room at his desk as he thinks about his crew. Conversations with Suvi about her family, her hands griping her mug of tea as she confides in him; Liam nearly coming to tears in the Nomad as he shares stories to Jaal about his family and friends he left behind; Kallo and his perfect memory of a team long gone. They went to sleep thinking their family’s lived long lives and instead…

No, he doesn’t think he can tell them anytime soon. But, Reyes, he thinks he can tell Reyes. He _knows_ the longer he withholds the truth, the more difficult it will be to tell everyone.

(And the closer he gets to becoming like his father.)

The truth will come out when he obtains more concrete information. He just hopes that its actually possible that he can. Everything about the Initiative is shrouded in so much secrecy that he’s doubtful he’ll ever uncover everything.

“You still there, mi amor?” Reyes’ voice draws him back to reality. Unsure how much time he spent dreaming leaves him embarrassed. Alcohol has left him vulnerable.

“’m still here, sorry,” he apologizes. He sighs, struggling with the next sentence. “’member what I said back then? When we danced at Tartarus, I mean.”

Scott knows it’s a moment Reyes treasures. How Scott had came to him, still loving him even after it was revealed what, not who, Reyes was. It had meant everything for Reyes to have Scott, even if he hadn’t outright forgiven him then. Scott had put his trust in Reyes by letting him hold him again. Even through his armor, Scott could tell how gently he was being held.

There’s a smile evident on his face when he says, “how could I not?”

That makes him smile despite the anxiety. “I’d said you could keep your secrets?” He stops because he’s expecting a response, when he gets none, he continues, voice wavering in the blatant emptiness of his room. “Well, I…I need to keep this secret.”

“And what if this is ‘ _the big stuff’_ as you called it?” Reyes argued. “What then? From how you sound and from the concerning messages I’ve received from _SAM_ -“

Scott shoots up from his position on his stomach, feeling chagrined. “SAM?” He scolds. Across the room, SAM’s form flickers in what Scott’s dubbed as his version of guilt and Scott swears he can feel SAM flitter in the back of his mind.

_[I was heavily encouraged to by your crew, Scott.]_ He doesn’t even sound the least bit sorry that he’s shifting the blame off himself. Wait till he tells them SAM will gladly throw them to the wolves to save his own…skin. Yeah.

“Great,” he grouses, rolling his eyes so hard he feels a migraine blooming. “Guess I’m gonna have to talk to my crew about minding their own business.”

_[More specifically, Dr. T’Perro.]_

_Never mind_ , he thinks sullenly.

A quiet and near pleading call of his name takes all the wind out from under his sails and he slumps back into his comforter with an unhappy groan. The fight leaves him once more and this time, for good. Reyes hasn’t voiced it but he knows the man has been trying to trust him, Scott should show him the same courtesy, even if it’s not completely. But soon. Scott can feel the promise of it looming over him like a dark cloud. All encompassing and ever present in his mind.

“Fuck, you’re right- okay? ‘M drunk an’ sorry.” It’s a weak excuse and apology rolled into one. It’s pathetic, like him in this moment. Like he’s been all week. God. “This is big- really, _really_ big. It’s the biggest secret of my goddamn life –and I will tell you, I promise. But, I can’t. Not…not right now- I dunno when. If it gets out, it could lead to galaxy wide panic- and everyone will look to me, and I’ve done okay with that before, but this is _so much more_ than anyone could possibly conceive- Jesus, I’m saying too much-“

“Scott-“

“-Everything is on me, on my shoulders. The Nexus, the angara- they’re all looking to me! And when they find out…Reyes-“

“Sh, sh, mi vida, please, hey,” he stutters and stops, breath returning to his lungs. He comes back to himself, noticing he’s sitting up; his fingertips are numb and tingly, and his vision straightens then clears. “Ah, there you go, baby, good boy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” He wipes his eyes and shocked when his hand comes away wet. He’s unsure if it’s from the cold sweat or if he’s crying. It’s like he’s in shock; for the first time all week, he wishes he was sober. “Please believe me when I say I want to tell you, hell- I _need_ to. I need one person I can completely trust with this. I don’t want to feel so-“

“Alone,” Reyes finishes, to himself and seeming so far away in that moment. He’s always so far away, never within touching distance and the expanse of Scott’s room becomes unbearable. It’s always been too big for the kid who’s only known how to live in a footlocker. It sets him apart from his crew in a way that makes him uncomfortable and lonely. SAM helps, but he’s still learning how to be alive. He’s desperate for Reyes’ touch- not even in a sexual sense at this point. Though, it would be nice. Scott has this persistent itch under his skin, this need to be close to Reyes again. Scott had once, drunkenly, told Reyes he was a fuel depot, and Scott a ship in need of fuel. Scott, after being lost for so long in space, comes home to Reyes for rest and renewal. It’s a bad metaphor, he must admit, but it had gotten Reyes to laugh.

He’s so distressed he almost misses it. “That’s it.”

“Huh?” Scott says, still recovering as his thoughts derail.

“I’ve been away from you for too long, so I’m coming to you. Expect me in a few hours, ah, you’ll be asleep- SAM will let me in when I get there.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you can’t just enter dock on the Nexus without any former communication! Tann-“

“Can kiss my ass. Tell him the Pathfinder’s handsome knight in stolen armor is coming to his rescue.”

“ _Reyes,”_ He stresses.

“ _Scott_ ,” Reyes shoots back. With enough force to quiet Scott enough to listen. “I want to hold you; you deserve to be held right now. Won’t you let me do that?”

Scott is hit with a surge of emotion so strong it nearly makes his chest burst with it. It chokes him and he can only sit there and just feel it as it utterly ruins him. He finally manages to punch out an exhale and inhale a shaky, wet breath. His face heats from the pressure of the tears threatening to fall. He desperately wants a moment of reprieve. He wants to be held.

He nods shakily before he realizes Reyes can’t actually see him do that. “Please.”

“Oh, my cariño, how you make my heart ache,” Reyes croons softly. “I’ll be there soon; do you wish to hang up?”

“No! No- just, tell me about your week?” Scott pleads. “I just want to hear your voice.”

“Anything for you,” Reyes promises, and this time Scott knows it’s the truth. “Anything.”

Scott’s unsure when it happened, but in between one moment and the next, lids heavy as he lets Reyes’ voice caress his ears, he lulls into a dreamless sleep. Then, he’s pulled from his first peaceful sleep in weeks by moment behind him. He keeps his eyes closed, heart thudding in his chest as the bed dips and then an arm sneaks it’s way over his waist.

“Hey,” Scott murmurs with a voice heavy with sleep, unable to stop the blissful smile creeping up on his face. He presses back against the new heat accompanying his bed. He already feels like he can breathe easier with Reyes here, despite the growing guilt of worrying Reyes. “’M sorry I worried you.”

Warm breath hits his neck as Reyes softly chortles behind him. “My love, you must learn to shrug the world from your shoulders once and a while.”

Scott really wishes he could, but tonight will be the last night he allows himself to for a while, now- now he must prepare. But that’s for another day, because now he just wants to bask in Reyes’ presence and forget himself.

“I’ve already heard that today, you’re getting predictable,” Scott breathed, fighting the heaviness of his eyes just to talk with Reyes a little longer.

But Reyes only replies with a hum and a gentle kiss pressed against the nape of his neck. Scott drifts between slumber and wakefulness guided to sleep by a blissful combination of Reyes’ body heat and the gentle humming of a tune that’s 600 years old, but still just as comforting.

“Thank you.”

Scott misses the reply as he slips away, but he doesn’t miss the press of a kiss against his temple, nor the hand that squeezes his.

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought it was weird that your Ryder finds out about all this shit their dad was hiding from them and is mostly okay about it for the rest of the game, so I wrote this. I'm the same age as the twins, so going by how I would feel about it, I wouldn't be okay at all.  
> My headcanon is that Alec knew Shepard from when she was in N7 training and they ended up bonding a bit to the point that Shepard became a cool, distant but loving aunt. Alec may have given his kids some informal N7 training, but Shepard trained Scott in N7 biotics.
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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